


Midnight Rides

by Theartfulldodger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Sharing secrets, Subway rides cure insomnia, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theartfulldodger/pseuds/Theartfulldodger
Summary: The first time Harry found Draco on the underground, he thought someone must have slipped something into his drink at the club. He rattled his head and rubbed his eyes, smudging the mascara Luna had applied hours earlier. But when he opened his eyes, the suspected mirage was still curled up and nodding off on the back bench.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 92
Collections: HP Pop Punk Fest 2021





	Midnight Rides

**Author's Note:**

> For HP Pop Punk Fest 2021's prompt, Dirty Little Secret by the All-American Rejects.

_“I don’t imagine you’ve any idea where this line goes, do you Potter?”_

_“Nope. You?”_

_“Not a fucking clue.”_

_“What a shame.”_

* * *

The first time Harry found Draco on the underground, he thought someone must have slipped something into his drink at the club. He rattled his head and rubbed his eyes, smudging the mascara Luna had applied hours earlier. But when he opened his eyes, the suspected mirage was still curled up and nodding off on the back bench.

With the start of the train, Draco startled awake, bleary-eyed and heavy-lidded, until he caught sight of Harry. Time slowed to a crawl on that empty subway car as the outside world raced by in a blur of concrete. His mind a slush of gin and 2 a.m. delirium, Harry simply swayed with the lull of the train until Draco rolled his eyes and slid over on the bench.

They didn’t talk much that night, and the next day, Harry couldn’t remember what little they did say. However, despite Harry’s pounding headache and fragmented recollection, he found a few memories persisted: the scent of Draco’s fading cologne, the sheen of sweat on his forehead, and the clench of his hands when the lights flickered.

He couldn’t forget the curious look Draco tossed over his shoulder when he exited onto the platform or the sound of the sliding doors as they snapped shut.

* * *

_“Cigarette?”_

_“Got a light?”_

_“You’re a wizard; figure it out, Potter.”_

_“I can’t just pull my wand out on the train.”_

_“That’s what she said.”_

_“What?”_

_“Also, I’ve seen a man reveal himself at least three times on the tube in the last year. No one would even blink an eye.”_

_“Jesus, Malfoy, just--”_

_“Give it here, Potter. Just use your finger, like this.”_

_“Oh. All right, that’s pretty cool. Give me another.”_

_“Just hold the pad of your finger over the end. And be gentle for Merlin’s sake, none of that heroic nonsense here. It’s a ciggy, not some dastardly criminal… Just like that. Not bad, Potter.”_

_“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll hex you.”_

_“Likewise.”_

* * *

The second time Harry found Draco on the underground, Draco was slouched against the windowpane, his cheek smudged against the glass. Before he boarded the train, Harry couldn’t resist tapping on the outside of the window and grinned at the indignant wrinkle of Draco’s brow.

They weren’t alone on the car, but Harry waved a silencing charm over their seat at the back. Even then, he thought of it as ‘their seat.’ Draco still didn’t engage much as Harry went on about the dismal state of Grimmauld Place, his breakfast with Luna that week, his unbroken habit of riding the train when he couldn’t sleep. When Harry asked where Draco was going, he scoffed and said, “None of your business, Potter,” before getting off at the next stop.

Harry turned around in his seat and watched Draco’s hair blow in the breeze as the train sped off into the tunnel.

* * *

_“I quit Auror training last week.”_

_“The Savior of the wizarding world, not suited for law enforcement? Too many adoring fans prohibiting your work?”_

_“I’m going to choose to ignore that comment. They just... expected a lot from someone who didn’t even finish his NEWTs, you know?”_

_“Couldn’t handle the pressure, hm?”_

_“Yeah, but no. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”_

_“If you’re lost, Merlin help the rest of us.”_

* * *

After the third or fourth time Harry found Draco on the underground, he stopped pretending it was an accident. He brought Draco a coffee from the stall near his flat, and Draco wasn’t so dramatic when he made room for Harry on the seat. Some nights were quiet, the peace between them still new and fragile. Other nights, Harry would rattle on about the mundane, and Draco would feign disinterest, supplying mumbled acknowledgments at the appropriate moments. Sometimes, Draco would flip through a muggle magazine while Harry stared out the window and picked at the frayed hem of his shirt.

They were unofficial and semi-coincidental meetings, with some nights leaving Harry riding the line alone. But the nights he found Draco, sitting cross-legged and leaning against the window, Harry's heart leapt in his chest, just a little, as he strode down the aisle towards the back of the train.

* * *

_“Hey, Malfoy, tell me a secret.”_

_“You first, Potter.”_

_“Not fair, I asked first.”_

_“Life isn’t fair. Now, spill it.”_

_“Fine. Let me think… Okay, you’re not going to like this, but Buckbeak got away.”_

_“Excuse me?”_

_“Remember the hippogriff from third year? We let him go. Ron, Hermione, and me. He roams free, Malfoy. A happy hippogriff, no thanks to you.”_

_“I sense there is a story here, but I’m too distraught to hear it. We shall never be safe again.”_

_“Whatever shall we do?”_

_“Hide away on the subway, of course.”_

_“You’re such a prick. Your turn.”_

_“Not anywhere near the prick I was to that hippogriff. Hm… Oh, I’ve got one. I’ve never paid to ride the subway. This whole time we’ve been doing... whatever this is. Not once. I apparate past the turnstiles every time.”_

_“Rebel. I’m impressed you know what a turnstile is.”_

_“Shut up, Potter.”_

* * *

After a while, Harry lost track of how many times he found Draco on the underground. Silence became rare, the time instead filled with theatrical anecdotes of Draco’s encounters with the muggle world or Harry’s dangerous renovations of Grimmauld Place. “You need to hire someone who knows what they’re doing, before you lose a limb, Potter,” Draco chided, in the early hours of the morning. “Old wizarding houses are not to be trifled with.”

It happened quietly, when Draco stopped curling in on himself the moment Harry sat down, when he started shortening the distance he left between them, and when he stopped getting off a few stops too early. Under the harsh glow of fluorescent light, Harry whispered about the not-so-mundane, his secrets muffled by the steady churn of the wheels. Draco no longer brought the magazines that he stopped pretending to read weeks earlier. He pulled his knee to his chest and listened as Harry talked. Sometimes, he shared secrets of his own.

* * *

_“I blew a hole in the wall trying to destroy Walburga’s portrait last week. I’ve hired someone. Hermione still thinks I’m fixing it on my own. ‘Good for me to be productive,’ or some shit. Instead, I’m aimlessly wandering the shops or watching telly in my pants while someone else deals with it.”_

_“Sounds an awful lot like, ‘Draco, you were right.’”_

_“I said no such thing.”_

_“Not what I heard, but no matter. Your turn to ask a question.”_

_“Do you still have nightmares?”_

_“What makes you think I had nightmares to begin with?”_

_“Malfoy…”_

_“Of course I still have nightmares. Don’t you?”_

_“All the time.”_

* * *

The last time Harry found Draco on the underground, he was in their seat, but his spine was stiff and his shoulders were tense. He sat in a cloud of smoke, and the embers of his cigarette glowed in the window’s reflection. Harry ambled down the aisle and hesitated just a moment before he sat down.

Draco didn’t acknowledge Harry’s arrival. He just crossed his legs on the seat and shuffled a bit closer, letting his knee come to rest on Harry’s thigh. As the beat of his heart outpaced the subway train, Harry leaned back, closed his eyes, and focused on the slight shift of Draco’s knee as the train lurched forward.

The screech of brakes ripped Harry from an unintentional but welcomed nap. He blinked his eyes open to find the world sideways and the press of heat under his cheek, on his shoulder. “Let’s go, Potter. It’s our stop,” Draco yawned, nudging Harry from his lap and into the aisle. Eyes heavy with sleep and a bit disoriented, Harry allowed himself to be led from the train and onto the platform. “Come back to mine?” Draco asked, silver eyes vulnerable and questioning. Harry nodded before reaching for Draco’s hand and interlacing their fingers. After a moment of stunned inaction, Draco recovered to lead them up the stairs and into the balmy, summer night.

* * *

_“Do you want to come in?”_

_“I didn’t think you invited me to your flat to admire the front door.”_

_“Stop being an arsehole, can’t you see I’m--”_

_“Are you nervous, Draco?”_

_“Secret.”_

_“You are. I’ve made Draco Malfoy nervous. Mark this day, ladies and gentleman: the unbreakable has been broken.”_

_“You’re such a pain, Potter. Can’t believe I thought this was a good idea.”_

_“Hey wait.”_

_“What?”_

_“It is. A good idea, I mean.”_

_“It is?”_

_“Let’s go inside, Draco.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. Come say 'hello' on [on Tumblr.](https://graymatters.tumblr.com/)


End file.
